Back to You
by allialli
Summary: Never say never. Never say goodbye.
1. Chapter 1

**disclaimer: not mine, don't sue**

**_okay, so this takes place during FTF when scully gets reassigned to utah. what if she had been excited? what if she needed to leave?_**

* * *

**Back to You**

"Scully," he calls out as she walks out his door. He can't let her leave him. She's the only thing keeping him sane… the only thing that HAS been keeping him sane. In the five years that he has known her, she has made a bigger impact on him than all the other people in his life combined. He can't let her leave. He hasn't told her how he feels. Hasn't told her how much she means to him. She turns around.

"Please don't beg me to stay, Mulder. I need to get out of here," she snapped. She didn't want to be angry at him. She had come over to say goodbye. She was sure that she was going to leave, and she didn't want to leave him on a bad note.

"What am I supposed to do? Don't you know what your leaving is going to do to me?" he asked her, and even he noticed how self-centered that sounded.

"What about what it's doing to me?" a tear runs down her cheek, "Don't you know what staying is going to do to me?"

"I'm sorry, Scully, I'll make it up to you. We can take more time off, work more in DC, you can have your own desk!" he was grasping at straws now, ready to throw himself at her feet.

"This isn't something that we can fix by just going out and buying me a desk, Mulder," she regretted telling him.

"What's it going to take? I'll do anything…" he cried. He was crying. She hated to see him cry. It happened almost as often as she cried. And now tears were streaming down her face too.

"I'm leaving, Mulder. I have to get away. From the darkness. From everything that's happened to me. I can't… I can't take it anymore," she confessed to him. It was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do. Then, his eyes met her's, and she changed her mind about that thought.

"You're just leaving?" he asked, almost in disbelief. Really, though, he was trying to wrap his mind around it. No more Scully. No more partner. No more _I've got your back and you've got mine_. No more coffee in the mornings. No more red hair. No more skepticism. No. More. Dana. Katherine. Scully.

"I'm sorry," she said in a whisper, looking down at the floor.

"You're not," he said coldly. The ice from his statement burned her heart. She didn't want to leave things like this.

"This isn't about you, Mulder!" she shouted, though she didn't know where it came from. Somewhere deep inside of her, from the person she had buried when she left medical school and joined the FBI.

"What is it about, then, Scully? Would you be doing this if you were still working a respectable job in the bureau? Would you be leaving everything behind if you hadn't had me as a partner?" he shouted back. He shouldn't have been arguing with her. He should have been holding her, kissing her gorgeous face and telling her how much he loved her. But that was them. They always argued.

"Can't you just accept that this is my own choice? That I decided that it was time for a change. Maybe I'm tired of the questions. I'm tired of getting myself so involved in my work that I start to suffer the consequences. I don't believe like you do, Mulder. I don't have that holding me. I _don't_ _want_ to believe! I don't want to believe in your goddamn conspiracies and your paranoia! It's time to grow up, Mulder! I don't want this to be about you, but maybe it is. Maybe we're too close."

"I've never been closer with anyone in my entire life."

"And that's what scares me," she whispered.

"So you're just going to run away? You're afraid to lose me, so you'll leave me?"

"It's not like that--"

"I will never have with anybody else what I have with you. You are my partner, you're my best friend, and if you leave…" he trailed, unable to finish that sentence. She finished it for him, though.

"If I leave," she started, "you will go on. You'll get a new partner. Things will go back to normal. You don't need me, Mulder."

"I need you. I need you here, with me."

"I need to go, though. I need to leave all this," she tried to be gentle with her words. They had closed the distance between them, and now they were in the middle of his front hallway, her hand on his chin. The X-files had been shut down. She had been reassigned. She saw it as an opportunity to grow.

"Why do you always have to distance yourself? It's not going to hurt you if somebody gets close, you know," he reasoned with her. She was intent, though.

"I'm not running away from you. I'll still be with you. But please let me go and see what I can do on my own. Please don't guilt me into staying. Please don't make me feel bad. Because I really want to go."

She wanted to leave. Not to be away from him. But she needed to leave, and he would not, so she would in turn, leave him. That was not something she wanted to do. The first time she knew for sure that she trusted him, right after her sister had died, she had realized that she never wanted to leave. That if she stayed right where she was, she would be perfectly fine for the rest of her life.

But she had been wrong. Things had happened. Cancer had happened. Emily had happened. Gibson and everything that came along with him happened. And she could no longer take it. She didn't want to leave Mulder, but she wanted to leave DC and headquarters there and everything that reminded her of her old life.

Maybe that meant Mulder couldn't be a part of her life, either. She couldn't have her cake and eat it too.

"You want to go?" he asked through his sobs.

"I need to go," she said, rather heartlessly. It was just her way of distancing herself. He was right about her in so many ways.

"Fine," he said after a deep inhale and wiping of his eyes. He stood up straight, backed away from her, and they looked at each other intently.

"Don't do this, Mulder," she told him, referring to his behavior.

"Do what? Run away? Distance myself? Make everything clinical so nothing hurts? I can't stop doing that, Scully. I learned from the best."

"We are different--"

"We're exactly the same."

And she knew he was right.

"I'm leaving. I'm packed. I'm ready to go. I have a ticket to Salt Lake City."

"So nothing I would have said would have made a difference?"

"Something would have. But it's too late for that and I wouldn't believe you anyway."

"Believe what? Do you want me to tell you I love you?"

The question tore through her like a knife. She had waited for so long for him to tell her he loved her. She was sure he did. She knew him, sometimes better than she knew herself. And she knew she loved him. So how could he not love her? After all, they were

Exactly

The

Same.

"No. I don't want you to tell me that. Not now."

"At one point?"

"At one point. That point has come and gone, and we are just two people now. Two people who had something. Two people who lost it--"

"Two people who are losing each other."

Precisely.

"I just wanted to say goodbye."

"We never say goodbye to each other."

Never. Not on the phone. Not in person. Never.

"It's time that we did, then."

Never say never. Never say goodbye.

"Alright, then, you can say it."

"Mulder, won't you please stop being difficult for just this once? Please! I just wanted to come say goodbye to my best friend. You mean so much to me--"

"Then why are you leaving?"

"Ugh. Fine, Mulder, if you don't want to say goodbye, don't. I can't make you. But I'm going to say goodbye. Goodbye, Fox Mulder."

He stood there, looking at the ground. And because she couldn't take it anymore, she turned on her heel and left. Maybe in Utah she wouldn't get paired with somebody like him. Somebody that scared her so much. Somebody that was afraid to say goodbye. Somebody so stubborn.

Somebody she loved so much.

* * *

Two hours later, at the airport, she watched as her flight showed up on the screen. There was no going back now, not that there had been earlier. Actually, she liked to think that there had been. That there had been some hope of her staying. Despite the fact that she emptied her apartment and packed away all her things, she liked to think that there wasn't any guarantee she would go until she talked to Mulder.

And she had talked to him. And in the end, he hadn't said anything back.

So she grabbed her luggage, the things that weren't already being moved across the country. She tried to forget everything that had ever happened to her in DC as she moved toward the terminal. She knew she couldn't forget, but she liked to think that she could.

Every now and then, she found herself looking back. Looking for him. Looking for his lanky figure running through the airport, trying to find her. She would run up to him. He would take her in his arms, telling her how sorry he was and that he didn't want to say goodbye. He would tell her that he loved her and that he couldn't live without her. Not just as a partner, but as a significant other. Then they would kiss and everyone would clap.

Just like they did in the movies.

But she didn't see Mulder running through the crowd looking for her. As she boarded the plane, she scolded herself for thinking such a thing could be possible. Not with Fox Mulder. Not in real life.

Because

Real

Life

Is

Not

Like

The

Movies.

* * *

Five minutes later his tall lanky figure can be seen running through the crowd. Not by her, though. Her plane just left. She is on her way to Utah. He waited too long.

He broke down right there in the middle of the airport. There are so many things he didn't say to her, even if she said they wouldn't have made a difference. He still needed to say them. He could have at least said goodbye. His stubbornness wouldn't even allow him a goodbye, though. It hadn't even allowed him to bid farewell to the one person in his life who had the power to take him down with just a look.

His one in five billion.

_This isn't about you, Mulder,_ her voice rang in his head. He wanted to be happy for her. She was getting out of the darkness. Gaining some of her life back, some of the life that he himself had taken away. For a moment, he had considered getting himself a ticket and going after her. It wasn't about him, though. He couldn't just go chasing after her like some guy in the movies. He couldn't do that.

Because

Real

Life

Is

Not

Like

The

Movies.

So he picked himself up, brushed himself off, and prepared himself for the long journey without his partner by his side.


	2. Chapter 2

**disclaimer: not mine, don't sue**

* * *

"Dana," he calls as she walks out the door. She winces at her first name. She does that every time, even though it had been two years. Two years since she had been reassigned to Salt Lake City. Two years since she uprooted her life. Two years since she had seen or spoken to Mulder. She had heard about him being on a case once in the area, but he didn't stop by to see her. And she believed, that if he truly wanted to see her, he would have gone out of his way to. So she didn't go looking for him.

"Yeah?" she asks, standing in the doorway of their office. Well, it had been her's longer than his. Her partner, Mark Sloveny, was the fourth partner for her to go through in the two years she had been in Salt Lake. All of the other ones had sexual harassment charges filed against them within three months. Dana Scully didn't mess around. She was used to a respectful partnership. She was used to _him_, even if he wasn't being that respectful. Anything that went further than the innuendo they had once shared and she requested a new partner. And yet, she found herself missing it.

Mark was okay, she guessed. As a partner, only. He was a bit on the egotistical side. Actually more on the glory-hound side, she believed. She didn't have a relationship with him like she had had with Mulder. They weren't friends. They didn't do things outside of the office. She preferred it that way. She didn't want the type of relationship she had had with Mulder with him. She didn't think she ever would again.

"Are we going to the FBI teamwork seminar in Chicago this year? I know it's kinda far, but I'd really like to go. Gives us a chance to get out. Plus, there's a ball. You could dress up," he tried to win her over, getting up and placing his hand on her shoulder. Any lower and she would have done to him exactly what she would have done to those other partners. He was already too close as it was. Her mind did a subtle scoff at the fact that he had tried to convince her to go by telling her that there was a ball and she could dress up. Mulder would have never slumped to such a comment. He knew her too well. He knew that Dana Scully would pick jeans over a dress any day. She then reminded herself that she wasn't being fair to Mark. She called him Mark for a different reason than he called her Dana. She called him Mark because his last name was a mouthful (Sloveny? How could she possibly say that every day?). It wasn't fair of her to compare him to Mulder. He wasn't Mulder. He would never be Mulder (ever).

He

Was

Mark.

And she just had to accept that.

"Umm, I don't really know if I want to this year…" she tried, thinking of a good reason to stay. She couldn't think of one. She couldn't make up one.

"Come on, Dana. It'll be good for us."

A shiver ran down her spine.

_Dana._

_Us._

Her mind sought the fastest possible answer. No matter what it did to her later, she needed to get out of that situation that second. So she said:

"Alright."

Even though she kicked herself as soon as she did.

Even though there would be a ball and she could dress up.

Even though it meant going with Mark Sloveny.

Even though teamwork seminars brought back memories that she had tried to suppress.

* * *

He had never been so annoyed with a woman in his entire life.

Her name was Lucy and she had a lot to live up to.

Sometimes he wished she would die.

Sometimes he wished she would kill him.

All the time he wished for Scully back.

Mulder had tried, was trying, to get on without her, just like she thought he could. Maybe she didn't really think that. She would be an idiot if she did. She knew how important she was to him.

_This is not about you._

The thoughts never did leave his mind entirely.

"So, Fox, I was thinking that we could get to Chicago a day early so that we could do some exploring. Oh there's so much I want to see there! Navy Pier and Millennium Park. Oh, and of course, Michigan Avenue! That's the hottest spot to shop in Chicago, you know," she says in her way-too-squeaky junior high voice. Two years, and she still called him Fox. Why, he doesn't know. He had never told her to.

Special Agent Lucy Erris was right out the Academy when she was assigned to the X-files. They weren't really the X-files anymore, though. They did whatever random assignments got into them, usually Bureau dirty work that nobody else wanted to do. When X-files were brought to him, he worked on them in his spare time. Alone. Without her.

He had done it before.

He didn't want to do it again.

"Lucy, it's Mulder," he reminded her, used to her superficial ranting. He didn't know exactly how she had managed to convince him to go to the teamwork seminar in Chicago this year. He had tried that once with _her_. It hadn't even worked out then. When he thought back on it (he always had to think back, because his days at work had become so boring and unimportant that he often went through them in a fog), he believed Skinner had gotten involved. Ordered him to go. Skinner had not been very involved lately.

Nothing to really be involved with.

At least the teamwork seminar was something to do. There was going to be a ball and everything, though he wasn't sure he wanted to go. He didn't want to go at all.

He did not want to get stuck in the woods with Lucy Erris.

Maybe he could ditch her when he got there and pretend somebody else was his partner.

No.

There was only one person he wanted to be his partner.

"Oh come on, it makes you sound like an old man! You're not old, Fox," she giggled (_giggled_), jumping off the side of his desk where she had been sitting. Maybe she didn't know she did, but she acted like the playful little secretary. The one that under normal circumstances, any man would have fucked no problem. He didn't want to, though.

He didn't care about her.

"Please, just call me Mulder," he almost begged with her. He knew that once he got to that level, she would leave him alone for awhile. That's all he wanted. To be alone.

Well, that's not _all _he wanted.

"Fine, Mul-_der_," she said, emphasizing the "der" in a very childish way, "but are we going a day early or not?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever you want, okay?" he said rather harshly.

She shut up.

He thanked God.

* * *

"All set, Dana?"

"Yeah, let's get this over with."

"Do you want me to carry your bags?"

"No, I've got them."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Let's just leave, okay?"

"Fine."

***

"Oh, Fox, look at that! Come on the Ferris wheel with me!"

"I don't like heights."

"I can't go on it by _myself_!"

"Why not?"

"Because you don't go on Ferris wheels by yourself. Come on!"

"Can we go back to the hotel? I need to iron my tux for tomorrow."

"We can go back to the hotel after we ride the Ferris wheel. We're at Navy Pier, Fox, live a little!"

"It's Mulder."

***

"Dana, are you ready for the ball?"

"I'm doing my makeup. How did you get the key to my room?"

"I had them give me an extra one at the desk."

"Oh."

"Are you ready yet?"

"Yeah. Just let me grab my badge."

"Girls always take so long to get ready."

***

"Ugh, Fox, I look so _fat _in this dress!"

"It's Mulder. You look fine."

"This looked so good at the store! I must have gained 10 lbs. since we left DC! It's all this Chicago-style food. I won't be able to eat for weeks!"

"We're late, Lucy, could you just hurry up?"

"We're not late, everyone else is just early. The party won't really start until we get there."

"Just get ready. I'd like to get there as soon as possible."

"_Fox!_ I'm having the worst hair day ever!"

***

"When do you think they'll open the bar?"

"I don't know, Mark, but I would advise you not to get drunk."

"It's a party, Dana!"

"It's a _ball_."

"Hey, I worked for this. I'm going to have a good time."

"Just don't make a fool of yourself. And don't make a fool of me."

"It's not about you, Dana."

_This isn't about you._

_You are not the princess and he is not prince charming. This is not your ball. Get that out of your head. The dress doesn't mean anything. This is not a movie._

Because

Real

Life

Is

Not

Like

The

Movies.

_

* * *

_

This isn't about you.

Look what I would have done for you. I'm sorry I never did. I'm sorry she is the one on my arm and not you. I'm sorry I won't get to see you tonight. I'm sure you would have looked beautiful.

And then he sees it. A flash of red hair. A red he has not seen in two years. A red he loves.

At first he cannot believe his eyes. She is thinner now, he notices. Her laugh lines have disappeared. She is on the arm of some man that he has never seen before. It feels wrong. Like he is having an out-of-body experience.

"Excuse me," he says as he slithers out of Lucy's grasp.

***

She sees him out of the corner of her eye. It is not the first time she thinks she has seen him out of the corner of her eye in the past two years. This time is different, though. This time it is more real. This time he does not disappear when she turns her heard toward him.

And then they are there. Face-to-face. Speechless. Breathless, even. She is gorgeous in her blue gown. He is handsome in his tux.

She puts her hand to his face just to make sure he is not a ghost. Not a ghost. She doesn't believe in ghosts.

An apparition. A figment of her imagination.

But her hand touches his skin. It's not warm, like it used to be. Neither are his eyes. She is sure her's aren't. She has tried, in her way, to look different. He looks the same.

Like he was waiting for her.

There is nothing to be said as they drown in each others' eyes. She can't take the silence anymore, though. She tried to form a coherent thought, but all that reached her lips was:

"Mulder."


	3. Chapter 3

**disclaimer: not mine, don't sue**

* * *

When he said her name, her eyes lit up like they hadn't in a long time. She couldn't believe they had found each other again, after all that time and separation. She couldn't believe she was standing in the middle of a crowded reception hall, his strong cheek in her hand. It seemed as if the whole world had turned off for them. And while it hadn't (because real life is not like the movies), a great number of people were watching them.

"Dana," Mark started, "who is this?"

"Mulder," she said dreamily, getting used to saying the name that had not left her mind in two years. She said his name more to him than to her partner.

"Hi," he whispered, unable to speak in an audible tone. She heard him, though. She could almost hear his thoughts.

"Hi," she mouthed back, her smiling lighting up the room. Mark saw how happy she was with the man. He wanted to step in. A chauvinistic part of him told him to. Unfortunately, he listened to it.

"Dana," he said, taking her arm and effectively breaking their magical gaze. She turned her eyes to extra-icy when she looked at him. Nobody had the right to take her away from Mulder. Not even herself.

"Excuse me," she said, and Mulder could tell she was pissed off. It felt good to have that part of her again. To have her loyalty. He thought he lost it. He feared he would never get it back.

"Who is this?" Mark asked, not caring if he made a scene in front of his co-workers.

"This is Mulder, I told you. Fox Mulder, my partner…"

The word came out before she had a chance to stop it. Did she say that to Mark because she hardly felt like he was her partner at all? Did she say it because Mulder was there, and she was subconsciously trying to mend bridges? Either way, he stepped in.

"Hi, Fox Mulder," he introduced himself, shaking Mark's hand. Mark just stood there, bewildered. He didn't consort much with Dana outside of work. But he knew she didn't have a social life. He knew she wasn't in a relationship. Why was she looking at this man with a look he had never seen her give before? It was a look of love, he was sure of it. How could she love this man? How could she call him her partner?

"Mulder, this is Special Agent Mark Sloveny," she said, leaving out what he was in relationship to her. Mulder could tell. He didn't need to _be _told.

"Fox!" he heard _his _partner call him. Had she not been so loud and whiny about it, he would have just ignored her. Scully heard, though, therefore, he heard.

"It's Mulder, Lucy," he wanted to get one thing straight before he introduced the most important woman in his life to the least. He saw Scully try to hold back a laugh. It was so good to see her laugh. It was so good to see _her_.

Period.

"Who's that?" Lucy asked, ignoring his correction once again. Mulder was about to introduce them, but Scully beat him to it.

"I'm Dana Scully. We were partners," she says shortly because Mark is still standing close by.

"Oh wow. Good to meet you. I haven't heard much about you," Lucy said. For some reason, this hurts Scully, but she understands. She hadn't told Mark about them either. Why she was sent to Salt Lake City. Why she was short and curt and never happy. Why she wasn't a whole person.

For a second, they have their privacy. It is not a true privacy, because once the formalities were out of the way, so was the interest in them. They no longer had twenty agents' eyes on them. Their partners, either out of embarrassment (Mark) or disinterest (Lucy), had looked away. She seized their opportunity by standing on her tiptoes and whispering in his ear:

"Let's go somewhere where we can be alone."

He took her hand, and they walked like the partners they were, out to the courtyard.

* * *

"How did you end up here, Mulder? You hate teamwork seminars. You hate FBI balls. You hate that woman in there," she said a little too loudly once they were alone in the courtyard, in the night air.

"Well, a great big hello to you too, Scully," he says, taking her hands in his and squeezing her small body against his. He loves the way she squeezes back. What he feels is the opposite of what he felt when she left. That is the way he always imagined their reunion to feel.

"I missed you," she mumbles against his chest. He was glad she said it first. He always tried to allow her to do things first.

Ladies first.

Scullies first.

Scully in his arms.

"I missed you too. So much," he whispers into her hair. She squeezes him tighter, trying to absorb what she missed in the past two years. Trying to make herself a part of him again. Little did she know that she had never left him.

A moment of loud silence before she looks up at him and says:

"You really do hate your partner though, don't you?"

So, like good friends, they spend a considerable amount of time catching up. He told her about DC. She told him about Utah. He told her about Lucy. She told him about Mark (and the others). He didn't tell her about his misery, but she knew. And he knew of her's. Something about the way they instantaneously felt together made them realize that in each other.

We are exactly the same.

"You really went on the Ferris wheel with her?" Scully asked in disbelief when Mulder told her about his special day in Chicago. All he could do was nod his head.

"I am sad, Mulder. You never took me on any Ferris wheels," she pouted.

"Well, Scully, I felt that every case we were one was so much like a roller coaster ride that a Ferris wheel would just bore you." They were sitting on a bench now. They were sitting close. They were holding hands.

They

Couldn't

Get

Enough

Of

Each

Other.

They knew it, too.

"I'm so glad I found you," he confessed. Scully's blush was violent, even in the dark. He knew what she was thinking. She hadn't really wanted to leave. She was doing what the old Dana would have done. She was doing what he head felt was best.

Little did she know that

Heads

Can't

Feel.

"I'm so mad I left you," she confessed a much greater secret. She didn't normally admit she was wrong. She didn't like to. She would rather find a way in which she was right. This time, however, she can't say that she wouldn't do it over again. She would.

She would take the last two years back.

She would not leave his side. If she would feel every day like she felt right at that moment, she would never have left his side. She would have never even considered it.

Especially since her life in Salt Lake was not a life.

Her

Life

Without

Him

Was

Not

A

Life.

And she was beginning to realize that.

"I'm mad that I let you leave."

He was.

"You were just trying to give me my space."

"You told me I could have said something to make you stay."

"I wouldn't have listened."

"I still needed to say it."

"I was afraid."

"Me too."

They were exactly the same.

"Scully, I don't want things to leave off where they did. These past two years have been hell, and I just want you back in my life."

"Mulder--"

"I'm not saying that you have to move back to DC and rejoin me on the X-files. I just want to hear from you. I hate not talking to you. I hate not being able to hear your voice. Or see you. It's been too long. And now that I've gotten a taste of you, I don't think I'm going to be able to go cold turkey again."

She smiled and put her head on his shoulder.

"I would like that very much."

"Are you going back to the ball?" he asked, her head still on his shoulder.

"No."

"Where are you going? You're partner is going to be worried about you."

"He'll be fine. He wanted to get drunk anyway. I don't want to be around for that."

"With my luck, Lucy will take off her clothes and dance on a table."

They laughed.

Together.

"Mulder…" she got an idea. Ideas like these rarely popped into her head, even when she had been working with him. And she believe that the fact that she hadn't been working with him added to the idea. She couldn't let him go. Not yet. Not after just getting him back.

"What's up?"

"I don't want to be alone tonight," she told him, not seductively (almost). She rubbed her face against his shoulder, inhaling his scent.

He was about to suggest the same thing.

Two bodies. One mind.

"Come on," he grabbed her hand and kissed it, then stood them up and walked with her, hand-in-hand, to his room.

Never say goodbye.

Not yet, at least.

They were just beginning to say hello.


	4. Chapter 4

**disclaimer: not mine, don't sue**

* * *

When she walks into his room, it feels like coming home.

When she walks into his arms, it feels like coming home.

It feels like living again.

She was dead.

"I missed you," he told her again with his face on her shoulder. He say that enough. He didn't think he could ever tell her exactly _how much _he had missed her.

He was dead.

They were exactly the same.

"I know. I really do."

She really did.

"You have to let me go, Mulder," she said after countless moments. He responded by tightening his grip.

"I remember the last time I let you go."

"It's not like that… I don't think it ever will be again. It's just…"

"Just what?"

"I wanted to kiss your cheek."

Kiss his cheek.

Like his sister used to before bed.

He loosened his arms only in exchange for one. She only kissed his cheek in exchange for one from him. She ended up winning more in end. Mulder had been willing to lose. Just this once.

"What are we going to do?" she whispered while he was still bent down toward her. He knew she meant in the long run. He didn't want to think about the long run. He didn't want to run.

Run away.

Run around.

Run yourself into the ground.

He was tired of running.

"We are going to order room service, get ourselves into some more comfortable clothes, rent a movie off pay-per-view, and pretend for a night that we don't have two years between us."

"I don't want to go back to my room. He has a key."

Then she remembered, though it was not the first time since she had left that she had, that she still had a key to his place. She still had the key to his heart as well.

"Look in my suitcase. You can wear whatever you want out of there."

"_That _won't start rumors."

"After our little scene in the reception hall, I'd be surprised if there weren't rumors around already."

"Hopefully they're interesting."

"I don't care. We know what's true."

"What are you going to wear if I wear your pajamas?"

"Good thing Lucy dragged me along for an extra day. I'll just wear my things from yesterday."

"Is the room in your name? Are you going to have to pay for the food and movie?"

"It's in the Bureau's name. They get the bill."

He got the lecture.

"Are you trying to find ways to keep from spending time with me?"

"No… does it sound like that?" she smiled.

"Yeah, a little bit."

"I'm sorry. I haven't gotten close to anybody since I left."

"More distance?"

That was the first reference to their fight either of them had made. She could have taken it one of two ways.

But she didn't want to fight with him.

"It's been rough," she put her head down. Mulder lifted it up with his finger.

"I know. I really do."

He really did.

"I'm going to go through your suitcase now. Anything in there that I shouldn't see?"

"Naw… I wasn't planning on anything."

"That brings me to the movie…"

"I don't watch those anymore."

"Don't lie to me."

"It's the truth?"

"Why?" she asked, like it was something important. In a way, it was. It was one thing that made him _him_. He had changed. Of course he did. But she didn't want him to.

She inwardly called herself a hypocrite.

"Not interested, I guess."

"Any reason?"

"Nothing really matters as much anymore."

"Don't say that. It hurts."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I didn't want to hurt you either. I am sorry I did."

"We'll heal together."

They would end up healing each other. Without words, they found their clothes and settled in together, her snuggled between his arm and his body. They looked like lovers, but they were so much more.

"Looks like your lucky day, Scully," he said, flipping through the movie options. He had scrolled right over _Steel Magnolias_.

"Too bad _The Giant Thing With the Head of a Fly and the Body of an Octopus that Attacked Long Island _isn't on," she joked.

"Ehh, I've seen that. It isn't great."

They watched _Steel Magnolias_. Scully let herself cry, but silently and into Mulder's chest. She couldn't stop herself, though, once she started. It was his smell that was making the tears come. His smell, the one that she couldn't exactly figure out but had always labeled just Him. She wanted to kiss him. But she couldn't. Because

Real

Life

Is

Not

Like

The

Movies.

And she didn't expect a "happily ever after."

"Scully?" he asked, once he noticed that the tears she thought she could hide from him weren't subsiding. She buried her face into his white shirt, shaking her head.

No.

No I'm not crying.

No there's nothing wrong.

No I don't love you.

And, unbeknownst to her, he could hear what she felt.

Because he heard with his heart.

Even though heads hear.

She wanted to be inside of his body. Not even in a sexual way. She just wanted to jump right inside of him and never leave.

He is me.

I am him.

We are exactly the same.

"I'm sorry," she finally whispered. She could say that every day for the rest of her life and it would never be enough. Mainly because he was not the only one she was sorry to.

He couldn't say anything to her. Everything seemed too little. Not enough to make her stop crying, not enough to make her come back.

Not enough to make her forgive herself.

So he turned off the TV. He pulled the blankets around them.

And that night they held each other, hearing with their hearts.

* * *

**i know it's short and i'm sorry i haven't been updating regularly. things have been rough. but this is important to me :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**disclaimer: not mine, don't sue**

_this is where it gets a bit M. some of you will clap your hands and squeal. :)_

* * *

It is the next morning when she next opens her eyes. The sun is shining in because they forgot to close the curtains last night.

She thinks it is all a dream until he moves and opens his eyes.

A wake.

A live.

"Hi," she smiled, kind of embarrassed that she fell asleep on his chest. Scully loved it there, though, and settled herself back in. Mulder wrapped his arms around her again.

"Hi," he said back, brushing some of her hair off her forehead. Even though it's morning and they slept awkwardly last night, her hair still looks amazing. She looks amazing. Mulder tried to find some way to tell her that.

"Did you sleep well?" he opted to ask instead. If he had left it up to Scully, she would have not said another word for the rest of the morning.

"Mmmm, I did," she says contently, stretching and yawning as is custom to do in the morning. He didn't yawn. He didn't stretch. He watched her.

He couldn't take his eyes off her.

"I'm sorry about what happened last night. I didn't mean to make you cry."

"You didn't make me cry, Mulder. The movie did."

"Scully, you cried for a half hour before falling asleep. I turned the movie off so that you wouldn't, but you kept crying. I don't think you cried because of the movie."

He was right.

She didn't want him to be.

"I guess it was just seeing you. After all this time, it feels like we haven't been away from each other for more than a couple minutes. But it's been so long, and I've missed so much. I've wasted so much. My plan didn't work."

"What plan?"

"My plan to live a normal life. Ever since I had started working with you, maybe even a little bit before, I came up with these various plans that would help me live normally. Help me find a guy. Help me to settle down. Help me to start a family."

Everything that they had done together had squashed that, he realized.

"None of them worked. So, after we were reassigned the last time, instead of fighting, I felt moving was the best thing for me to do. It was like Plan Z or something. I was determined to make it work. But it didn't. And I'm sorry."

She was sorry.

He knew she was.

She knew he knew.

They both knew that they could never be sorry enough.

"You had no way of knowing that it wouldn't have worked. What if it would have, and you didn't go? I would never ever want to be the reason for your unhappiness," he explained to her, sitting up and brushing her hair back from her face. She looked like she was going to cry again. If she were anything like she was when she left, though, he knew she'd hold out until the last possible second. It would take an extreme amount of emotion to make her cry. She wouldn't just start bawling. Not like those girls in the movies.

Because

Real

Life

Isn't

Like

The

Movies.

"That's just it, though. You weren't the source of my unhappiness. Not long after I left, while I was still too stubborn to admit it, I figured out that you _were _my happiness. You were my other half. I've never had anything with anybody like what I had with you."

Like what she hoped she _still had _with him.

"So I wasted two years of my life rotting away in Salt Lake, unhappy and nothing like I hoped I would ever be. And you know what, Mulder? I'd probably still be there if Mark hadn't dragged me to this thing. I'd still be there if we hadn't run into each other. Because I'm too fucking stubborn to come back to you…"

She was on the verge of tears and when she closed her eyes, they came out. They ran down her still sleep-rosy cheeks until he kissed them off. Her face was burning with emotion, and he could feel the heat radiating off her when his lips touched her skin. Mulder wanted to stay strong for her, but in reality, he wanted to cry just as hard.

Maybe even harder.

Because everything that she had said was exactly what he had been feeling.

"No, Scully…" he started but stopped to try to hold on to his tears, "it's _my _fault. I didn't come looking for you. I let you be, because I thought that was what you would want. Even if I wanted you, I wanted to let you go. But there was this voice in the back of my head telling me that I would never be the same without you. If only I had bought a fucking ticket when I went after you to the airport--"

"You went to the airport after me?" she asked in disbelief because that was exactly what she had wanted him to do. She remembered looking for him, knowing that if he only came running down the terminal, nothing would change. She would not have been able to keep herself from running straight into his arms for good. For once, they did things like in the movies. But, unlike the movies

They

Missed

Their

Chance.

They thought.

"Yeah, I went to the airport. But too late. You were already long gone by the time I came to my senses. And I blamed you! I blamed you; I thought that if you really wanted to come back you would have! I was so stupid, Scully! I actually thought you would have come back on your own if you wanted to!" he yelled because he couldn't believe himself. He couldn't believe he would trust this woman to do what her heart told her to.

She didn't listen to her heart.

She heard with her head.

Hearts can feel but they can't think or listen or make decisions.

She didn't listen because she didn't think there was anything to listen to.

"Mulder, how can you blame yourself? _You_ didn't leave! _I_ left! _I'm_ the one that uprooted my life just to run away from the one thing that was keeping me whole! And you're right, I wouldn't have come back! There's something wrong with me, Mulder, that makes me so stupid when it comes to these things. It's like I can't do what everyone _expects_ me to do, yet my whole life I've striven to live up to everyone's expectations."

And she thought she could hurt him in the process.

Didn't she know that hurting him was just like hurting herself?

They cried and shook and held each other when they ran out of words. At that moment, they could only feel.

But not with their hearts or heads.

With their hands.

With their lips and tongues.

He replaced her tears with his thumbs as he kissed her lips passionately. He didn't want her to feel this way. He did the only thing that he thought would make her better.

Would it make her worse?

She thought about that as she slid his shirt over her head, but the second his lips connected, she couldn't concentrate. She wasn't thinking anymore.

She was only feeling.

Him.

His lips on her breast.

His hand in her hair.

His hand on her heart.

His tongue on her hip.

His chest beneath her fingers.

His back on her palm.

They lay down together, suddenly rid of all barriers.

When they came unto each other, it was like coming home.

She was all he wanted.

He was all she needed.

They didn't even close the curtains.


	6. Chapter 6

**disclaimer: not mine, don't sue**

* * *

They spent the rest of the day getting to know each other.

They did that, and they rediscovered things.

For instance, they went to a gas station to get him a bag of sunflower seeds.

And they walked along Lake Michigan for her. They held hands along the way, but that didn't have anything to do with what they had done that morning.

Their hands fit together.

He bought her dinner.

Again, not because of what they had done that morning.

Because he missed those times where he bought her dinner and they ate in front of her TV watching some stupid movie that he picked. They didn't sit in front of the TV, though. They ate their Chinese take-out at the very end of Navy Pier. He said he needed to go there with her to erase the bad memories his mind was already associating with that place.

They missed their convention.

They missed the wine and cheese reception.

They missed the tower of furniture.

They did _not_ miss their respective partners.

They were exactly alike.

"Mulder, can I ask you a question?" Scully inquired as she poked through her lo mein.

"Yeah, sure," he said, almost spilling soy sauce on his pants because he whipped his head up so quickly. There was a time, about two years prior, when he would have continued wrestling with the Chinese condiment instead of giving her his full attention. Things were different now.

He didn't have the right to take her for granted anymore.

"Do you think that if I hadn't left that we would have made it to this?"

It's a good question. One he thinks he knows the answer to. How many things can he really know, though? She _did _leave. He didn't have the opportunity to find out whether or not things would have run their course and he would have ended up doing the unthinkable (well, maybe not _unthinkable_, as in never thought of) with her on the bed in his hotel room. They had been separated by space and time and their own selfishness. He wanted to believe that they would have made it to that point, sooner rather than later (because he also likes to think that if she had stayed, he would have shown her how much she really meant to him that night), even if she hadn't left. But the fact was that he didn't know. And he couldn't lie to her.

Not anymore.

He was done lying.

"I'm not sure, Scully. We led each other around in circles for a long time. And while I like to think that I would have changed once I was reminded of how precious you were-- correction, _are_-- to me and told you, but I'm not sure. I would have wanted to, but…"

"We were so afraid of losing our friendship," she finished for him.

Precisely.

And in the process, they had lost something much more important.

"I wish I didn't have to say that, but it's the truth."

"I understand, Mulder. If you had asked me the question, I'm sure I would have said the same thing."

"No you wouldn't have," he smiles.

"You think I wouldn't have told you the truth?"

"Not really that, per say, but you're a hopeless romantic, Scully."

"Hold on, Mulder, I hardly even looked at men while we were on the X-files."

"That's not what I mean, Scully."

That's not what he meant at all.

"What do you mean, then?"

"I understand that you were basically a nun while we worked together, but I know you better than that, Scully. I know you're obsessed with finding your true love… your Prince Charming with the white horse who will sweep you off your feet and take you to live happily ever after someday," he told her, and it was surprisingly hard not to think of himself as that Prince Charming.

_That_ was because of what they had done that morning in part, and partly because of their history.

He had a history with this woman. He had a history with the one woman he had thought was going to be in his life forever. He didn't want a history with her.

He had a history with Phoebe.

He had a history with Diana.

But he had always liked to think that he had a present and a future with Dana Scully.

"That is so cliché, Mulder," she laughed. She couldn't take offense because it was true. At least somewhat true. While she wasn't _obsessed_ with finding the man of her dreams, she knew she had incredibly high standards and expectations when it came to how they treated her.

They would not treat her like her three previous partners in Salt Lake City.

They would not treat her like her brother Bill.

They might treat her like Mulder did, only after awhile, though. She had to get to that level. It only made sense to her that there was a level in which surprisingly only Mulder had seemed to be able to pass.

"It's true, though!" he laughed with her. It felt so good to laugh again. Since she had been gone, it had taken a lot to make him laugh. Nothing seemed worth laughing about. He needed to save his energy for more important things.

Like breathing.

Like eating.

Like missing her.

When he laughed, it felt as if he were opening up an old chest. All the dust came flying out, and he was soon doubled over, far past the point of no return.

And amongst all that he was feeling for himself-- the awakening of his emotions-- the best feeling he got at that moment was hearing her laugh. He remembered when he used to do the craziest things in order to get her to laugh.

He should have done more.

Mulder remembered how her laugh had been enough to bring him out of his darkest despair. Her voice was one thing, but her laugh was so rare and precious that he felt that his life goal should be to bottle it. Keep it so that he could hear it whenever he liked.

Scully did not give up her laugh easily.

But it came out just as freely as Mulder's. And they sat there, on the end of Navy Pier, tears running down their faces.

A few people looked over, wondering about the two crazy Chinese-eating-even-though-they-weren't-in-Chinatown people on the pier and what they were laughing at.

The lake laughed with them, the unruly waves splashing water at them.

The lake wanted to play.

But the fates and the gods of love were done playing with them.

He set down his food (never to be picked up again) and took her hand (never to be let go of again).

"How is it that the one person I wanted never wanted to hurt, I can hurt so much?" she asked him, her tears becoming real and more frequent. She didn't want to cry. She hadn't cried for so long, not really.

"Sometimes it's the one person you don't want to hurt that you can hurt the most easily."

It was a line out of a movie. She didn't know exactly which one. Maybe the movie of their lives. But

Real

Life

Is

Not

Like

The

Movies.

That thought scared her. After all, wasn't her life the perfect movie? Boy and girl find each other but don't realize it. They run around chasing after each other until their love becomes too much. They leave each other, only to be reunited under the silliest circumstances. Then they pretend like there wasn't a past and move forward.

Being a hopeless romantic, if she had been writing their movie, she would have written a happily ever after. But Dana Scully knew that

Real

Life

Is

Not

Like

The

Movies.

Did that mean that no matter what she wrote into their movie, real life would spit out the exact opposite? That's what it had done so far. Then maybe she would write them a different ending. An opposite ending. Maybe she would leave him right there on the pier for another two years before she was called back to Washington for his funeral.

She couldn't chance that, though. Perhaps she wasn't doing the writing.

Perhaps the fates or the gods of love that were done playing were writing the movie. _Make up your mind, Dana!_ they screamed at her, _Do you love him or not?_

She knew she loved him. He knew he loved her. She knew that he did and he knew. He knew that she did and he knew. There was no doubt of their love for each other (not even amongst the people who watched them laugh). There was, however, doubt for the quality in which they could have a relationship based on their history.

They had a history. A history that would undoubtedly affect their present and future.

We are nothing without our past.

Their history stood like a wall between them. Even as they had made love, they could feel the wall. And they were scared it would never go away.

"I never want to hurt you like that again," she confessed, although it isn't much of a confession. He knows that she knows and he knew.

"But these conventions can't last forever."

"I will eventually have to go back to Salt Lake, and you will eventually have to go back to D.C."

Moving in different directions, separately.

When they had been in sync, everything had been so right.

Where had they fallen from, these angels? What blight in the heavens had forced them away from their guiding light? Away from each other?

"We will eventually have to continue our lives without each other."

Scully hated the sound of without, but it blasted like a symphony in her ears when he was not around.

"I don't think I can do that," she whispered, leaning into him. His smell overtook her again, and she happily wrapped herself in it.

His arms, solid and easily secured, could not hold her tight enough. It was as if he were trying to absorb her. After all, Mulder could be quite a selfish person.

"I don't think I can either," he confessed. They were good at confessing things the other already knew. It was sort of a confirmation that they were on the same page.

Different people walking along the pier that day noticed them, but not for their laugh. There are many sights and sounds one is introduced to while walking along the streets of Chicago, but there is hardly anything for one to feel. Yet they could feel the love and warmth and overpowering sorrow that enveloped those people.

Those people who were not eating-Chinese-even-though-they-weren't-in-Chinatown people.

Those people who were desperately-holding-onto-each-other-and-not-letting-go people.

* * *

**this chapter was really emotional and long... i think it's the best one yet. tell me what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7

**disclaimer: not mine, don't sue**

* * *

Their absence had been noted.

Mark realized she was not there when he popped into her room that morning (he used his key).

Lucy realized he wasn't there when it came time to actually start the partner work.

And the two were left alone.

They were exactly the same.

* * *

"Mulder, my pants are going to get wet!" she yelled over to him in the water. They were back on the beach after their Chinese-even-though-they-weren't-in-Chinatown. They had walked there without knowing. Of course they would walk to the beach and stare out past the unforgiving lake into the forgiving horizon. They could have been at the edge of the world, yet the horizon would still be forgiving.

Little does she know that he looked out to the horizon more than once while she was gone, each time hoping that mere want could bring her back.

Little does he know that she looked out to the horizon more than once while she was gone, each time wanting to spread her wings like a bird and fly to him.

"Come on, Scully! The water's great! You'll love it!"

No.

I love _you_.

But in order to get to him, she had to get in the water.

She had to risk wet pants.

She had to risk taking off her shoes and never seeing them again.

In a world where she had risked very much and very little for this man, Scully decided to take off her shoes and roll up her pants and wade over to him.

"Jesus, Mulder!"

"What?"

"It's cold!"

"No, you just gotta get used to it."

"How long will that take?"

"However long you want it to."

A wave of warmth spread through her. Unfortunately, so did a real wave.

"Mulder!"

He chuckled, actually sorry for what the playful lake had done to them.

"My pants are wet!"

"Now, you knew your pants might get wet when you came out here."

"But I still came out here," she reminded him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Why _did _you come out here?"

"Because I can't be away from you for too long."

"Was two years too long?"

"Two years was torture."

It was something worse than torture. What was torture even more was that they knew they could have run back to each other at any time.

What was more than torture is that they didn't.

He hoisted her up on his hips and put their foreheads together. He loved it when their foreheads touched. Even though Mulder knew he didn't have a psychic ability, he liked to think that he could read her mind when their foreheads were together.

He believed that he could know what was running through her brain. He felt he shared a synapse with her.

She just felt that, when their foreheads were together, he knew he could kiss her.

Even before that morning, even before she left, she knew that if their foreheads were together, she would not be able to push him away from her.

If he kissed her, she would have to kiss back.

Only if their foreheads were together.

Otherwise, she could make her own decisions.

If he could read her mind while their foreheads were together, why didn't he kiss her?

Because

Real

Life

Is

Not

Like

The

Movies.

The wall was still there.

"You know I haven't checked the time since we left the hotel?" she asked, smiling.

Time had become her master. She lived by it, like some people live by religion.

She was a timeologist.

She was never late, never early.

She

Was

Always

Right

On

Time.

And she found it ironic that perfect timing existed in her even when she wasn't looking at a clock. For instance, her timing with Mulder.

The man she shared a forehead with.

The man she shared a soul with.

"Can you feel time, Scully?" he asked. It was one of his philosophical questions.

The ones they always disagreed on.

"What do you mean?"

"Can you feel time? Can you feel that it's been an hour? Half a day?"

"Two years?"

"Can you feel that time has gone by? Or does it all feel the same?"

"I can feel the passing of time."

She could feel what it did to her body.

Her hair and eyes were dulling.

Her muscles and bones were complaining.

She could feel what it did to her soul.

It was dying.

"Can you feel time itself? Could you feel that it is almost 3:00 in the afternoon?"

"I don't think I can feel time like that. I can only feel the effects of time."

"Like how I got wrinkles?"

"You don't have wrinkles, Mulder."

"Scully, you are close to me. Look at my face, and tell me I don't have wrinkles."

She looked at his face. The face she used to see every day.

The face she still sees every day.

And she saw wrinkles. Some were faint and some were pronounced, but they were there.

And she knew that _she_ did that to him.

She brought one of her hands from around his neck. She touched one of those wrinkles, and she knew that was when she went to his apartment that night.

She touched another one and knew that was from when they had their fight.

She touched another one and she knew that was from when she slammed his door.

She touched one around his eye and knew that was from when she left on the plane.

She touched the one in the corner of his lip and knew that was from when he showed up at the airport five minutes late.

"You have wrinkles, Mulder," she said, and somehow, this pains her.

It is the fact that she did that to him.

"Can you tell, by the wrinkles on my face, how much time has elapsed since you last saw me?"

"Mulder, it looks like ten years since I last saw you!" she exclaimed, hugging him around the neck. She didn't want to look at his face anymore. She didn't want to see what she did to him. But she knew that she would never get that image out of her mind.

"That's how much I missed you," he whispered into her hair.

"You missed me ten years?"

"I missed you like you had been gone ten years."

She pondered this.

"Just ten years?"

* * *

**getting back into the writing groove, it feels good! so i must give credit to arundhati roy, who i learned to write from. she is amazing, and you should all read her books.**

**after you review, of course :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**disclaimer: not mine, don't sue**

* * *

He knew to go down to the lake.

She didn't know, but he knew.

He knew that she'd be at the lake.

With _him_.

Her _partner_.

In a little over a year, Mark had yet to ditch her. He had yet to leave her out. How could she leave him so suddenly?

For a guy she supposedly ran away from.

Yeah, he had put the pieces together.

He found them.

In the playful lake.

Sharing a forehead.

And something in him snapped.

"Dana!" he called out, sounding mean and feral. All he really wanted to do was ask her what the hell she was doing, but he had been abandoned by her.

His _partner_.

When he couldn't find her in the seminar, she had made him look like a fool.

And

Nobody

Made

Mark

Sloveny

Look

Like

A

Fool.

Ever.

She heard him call her, but at first she thought it was a bad dream. She had always had dreams about being taken away from Mulder, but they were rarely because of an outside force.

But when they were, they were terrible.

Even though she was still safe in his arms, she felt like she was being ripped away from him.

"That's Mark," she said into his shoulder, hiding her face and real emotions for the man. In reality, he scared her. She knew he would do anything for the glory… anything to make himself look good.

By not showing up at the seminar she had probably made him look like a fool.

And

Nobody

Makes

Mark

Sloveny

Look

Like

A

Fool.

Even if he was one.

"Scully, how did he know we were here?"

"I don't know, but I don't want to go over there. Mulder, don't make me. I don't want to know what's going to happen," she panicked.

He reluctantly set her back on her own two feet.

"We can't run, Scully. We're standing in Lake Michigan, there's only one way we can run."

"I left him, Mulder! I left him for you. Mark _hates _that. I know he does," Scully's breathing became bated. Before long, she was full-out hyperventilating.

Right in the middle of the playful lake.

With the fates and the gods of love shooting their movie.

She didn't want to be seen hyperventilating on camera.

"Don't worry," Mulder said, putting their foreheads together once again to try to calm her down, "I'm not going to let anything happen. If he so much as touches you, I'll kill him."

"Promise you'll protect me?"

"I promise."

***

"Dana! Dana, what the hell were you thinking? What did you think we were doing out here? Did you think this was just some blow-off event that you didn't have to show up for? I waited, Dana, in that room for you. And when they said to find your partner, guess what? You're nowhere to be found. You're off with this nut! I've heard stories about this man, Dana! You can't just ditch me for him. I'm your partner!" he lectures once they get to shore. Mulder made sure that he was between them. He had to be ready to twist that over-inflated man's neck if he touched her. He had to be ready to restrain himself from doing it anyway.

"Okay, okay. Let's just calm down here," Mulder tells him, extending his hand out in front of him as he slowly moves closer, never letting go of her hand. He's done this before. In hostage situations.

This is not a hostage situation.

This is a confrontation at the beach.

If it were a movie, it would turn into something more.

But

Real

Life

Is

Not

Like

The

Movies.

So it would be best to remain rational.

"Oh why don't you shut up, Spooky? She's here with me!"

"Mark, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ditch you. It's just… I haven't seen Mulder in a long time. I missed him. I just wanted to catch up with him."

"Well catch up with him on your own time! There's a whole roomful of agents in there that think that I'm some kind of bad partner now all because of you. I can't believe you, Dana! I thought you had a head on your shoulders!"

"You'd better watch it, Bud, this is the smartest woman you will ever meet."

"I thought I told you to shut up!"

"I won't just stand here while you yell at her!"

He wouldn't.

"Look, you're little reunion has lasted long enough. Time to come back to the seminar…"

"I think I'd like to go back with Mulder."

"Dana, quit being an unruly bitch and come with me!" And that's when the line between real life and movie became blurred.

Because Mulder hit that man as hard as he could.

He would not just stand there while he yelled at her.

He would not just stand there while _his _partner was called a bitch.

Mark went down with a thud. Right into the wet sand, face-down.

Even though he was face-down, Mulder knew he was bleeding.

Scully knew it to, when she bent down to help him.

That's when the movie went into slow motion, much like the tapes he reviewed.

"Mulder!" he heard her scream when she turned Mark over. His nose was spewing blood. Mulder had knocked him unconscious. But he couldn't have helped himself. He wasn't thinking with his head.

He was thinking with his heart.

Little did he know that hearts can't think.

"I…" he started but couldn't finish. There were too many things to finish that with.

I'm sorry.

I was just trying to protect you.

I can't believe he said that.

_This is not about you._

Scully tried desperately to wake Mark up, but Mulder had done him in. His hand was probably hurting, something deep in his brain was probably registering that. But Mulder couldn't feel anything.

He was numb.

He was numb after she left.

He was numb once more even though she was standing in front of him.

Sometimes he couldn't control where or when he was numb.

In the midst of their shuffle, she had managed to get somebody to call an ambulance. It killed her to call an ambulance, but her partner was not waking up. From the looks of it he had a broken nose and a concussion.

Mulder had done that for her.

How do you thank somebody for doing that?

"Mulder, you need to get out of here," she told him, smearing her knuckles in Mark's blood.

"What?" Mulder asked, looking barely awake.

"Get out of here," she said again.

"Why?"

"Because you hit him, Mulder! You broke his nose! He's unconscious! Mulder, if you don't leave… if you don't leave I will never get to see you again. There will be serious repercussions for this. I'd rather face them…"

"Oh no," Mulder was alert enough to comprehend. Take the fall for him. If he let her do that, how was he any better than Mark-on-the-ground?

"Please," she begged him, tears starting to wet her cheeks and fall on her already-wet pants.

She found her shoes and put them on.

"No, Scully!" he shouted, wanting so badly to come back to his body.

"You can't let them know it was you."

"You didn't do anything. I hit him."

"You hit him for me, Mulder, and that's the nicest thing I believe any man has ever done for me. You protected me like I asked you to."

"There is no way in hell I am letting you take the fall for this. You don't deserve it."

"Mulder…"

"No. Don't even ask me to leave. I'm not leaving."

A small pause.

A moment of quiet.

The symphony only got louder, though.

"Not like I left, huh Mulder?"

"This has nothing to do with that."

This isn't about you.

"It's got everything to do with that. The whole time we've spent together has been spent trying to make up for that. But you don't understand, Mulder. Either we can be with each other or we cannot. There is no middle ground. Otherwise, things like this happen."

The ambulance pulled up to them, a team jumping out of the back and attending to Mark-on-the-ground. Attending to her partner.

"What happened, ma'am?" one of them asked her. She looked at Mulder, who didn't say anything. This was the ultimate test. This was what she had forgotten to study for.

"Ma'am?"

"He hit him," she says to her _partner_.


	9. Chapter 9

**disclaimer: not mine, don't sue**

* * *

She could have gone to the hospital with Mark.

She could have called her division director.

She could have called his partner.

She could have called Skinner.

In this world though, in this life that is not like the movies, she did none of those things.

The only thing that made sense to do was get in a cab and follow the police downtown.

To the station.

Where they would lock him up.

But in his mind

He had never been more free.

It takes awhile before she is allowed to see him.

By this time:

Mark had woken up.

Her division director had been called.

His partner had been called.

And Skinner had been called.

She waited for hours while he was processed. Being an FBI agent, it took a little longer. It should have taken less long.

Shorter.

Had everyone really forgotten about Mulder?

She waited for hours, but of course, she could have waited days. Weeks. Months. Scully would have waited for him forever. In the dark. Maybe she liked the darkness.

Because in the darkness you can't see.

You can't see the danger… you don't even know it's there.

You can't see the good, but you also can't see the bad.

You can't see (or feel) time, or any of it's effects.

You can't see your life passing you by.

Scully didn't want to feel that her Life had been Lived. But in reality, she knew, that she had no Life without Him.

She just had a life.

Going nowhere nowhere fast.

Did he feel that? Did He feel that?

After all,

They were exactly the same.

"Miss Scully?" she heard a gruff voice ask her. It woke her from her reverie. Her afternoon-dream. It was the police officer that had taken Mulder away.

She didn't know his name.

She didn't want to look at his nametag.

"Yes?" she asked, standing up, just like she had been taught to do.

"Your friend's been through the system. You can go see him now, if you like."

She followed the officer down the hall, just like she had been taught to do.

She ignored the other inmates, just like she had been taught to do.

She waited for him to unlock His cell, just like she had been taught to do.

She didn't touch Him, just like she had been taught NOT to do.

But she wished that she had been sick from school that day.

"Scully," he says, lifting her chin. It's not a question. It doesn't require an answer-back.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Scully. I hit him… I have to pay the price."

It is as if he can read her mind.

But people can't read minds.

Not like they can in the movies.

"We don't ever do things normally, do we Mulder?" she asked. It was a small joke. A sort-of joke. The kind that make her laugh in despair. The kind that make her feel like she's going mad.

"No," he hangs his head because of her sort-of joke. She is slipping away.

And he can't follow her.

"I can't do this…" she trails, putting her hand on her head (so that she would not put her hand on him like she had been taught NOT to do). The tears are ready to fall again. She loves him.

So much.

She can't have him.

So much.

"I'm sorry. He just--"

"I'm not talking about what Mark did, Mulder! I'm not talking about that! I love what you did for me at the beach. It was sweet and compassionate and everything I've ever wanted somebody to do for me. I'm talking about _us_, Mulder. We might be bad for each other."

We might be the only thing for each other.

"Scully, I thought about what you said. How there can't be any middle ground. You're right. We can't be in the gray. Either we do this the right way or we don't do this at all. I thought about what you said, and I thought about what I would say back. Scully… we're going to make this work. I'll give up everything. I'll run a thousand miles away from the X-files. Nothing will stand in our way."

Nothing would stand in their way.

Except her.

"No, Mulder. We can't. We're not that type of people. I know you can't give up everything for me just like I can't give up everything for you. It doesn't work like that."

"We'll make it work like that."

Run away.

Wasn't he tired of running?

This was different.

He was running _toward _something.

He was running toward her.

And she was running away.

Again.

Some things never change.

"I don't think we could. Mulder, I'm getting you out of here, but then I'm gone. I'm getting Mark out of the hospital tonight, then we're leaving again. I would advise you to do the same. This was fun. I've never felt so much in such a short amount of time. But it's over. This isn't a movie."

Because

Real

Life

Is

Not

Like

The

Movies.

"So that's it? You're just going to leave?"

Again.

"I never _just _leave, Mulder. And I don't think a part of me will ever really leave you. But yes, if you want to put it that way, sure. I'm just going to leave."

Somewhere water was dripping slowly and she knew what he was going to say before he even said it.

And they weren't sharing a forehead, either.

"Like last time."

She didn't know what to say. Did that require an answer-back?

"This _is _the last time."

"I told you, Scully, I'm not ready to go cold-turkey. And I know that you aren't either. I know you're just trying to protect yourself. But you have to know, Scully, I would never hurt you. Ever. I'd die first."

"We don't mean to hurt each other, Mulder, but we do."

They did.

It was inevitable.

They were exactly the same.

"But I'll always pull you back up. I'll always take your hand and brush the dust off and listen to you."

Listen with his head.

Listen with his heart.

It didn't matter, but if she left, there would be nobody to listen to.

Except his own head.

His own heart.

He didn't trust them.

Not since the airport.

Not since he didn't say what he needed to say.

"Scully, don't you know how much I love you?"

There

He said what he needed to say.

It was just a question now.

"Yes, Mulder, I do. I know how much you love me. You just told me you would give everything up for me. Give up your X-files and your darkness and your questions and you sister…"

"You don't know."

"I do."

"You don't know, otherwise you would know that none of that stuff, not even Samantha, could stack up next to you. You don't even know the half of what I would give up for you!"

"I'm sorry," she says, and suddenly it seems familiar.

She was good at saying goodbye, she believed.

"Scully, don't do this. You know that if you leave I cannot follow you. I can only do one thing at a time."

It was true.

If she stayed he could not leave. If she left he could not follow her.

If she loved him he could only love her back.

He was crying now.

"Come on, we have to go. You're out on bail," she said after a small silence. It had been full of questions. Like a shady politician… she had done her best to avoid them.

She was good at avoiding things, he believed.

That was the final blow.

He let her go once again.

She left the cell, but because he could only do one thing at a time, he could not follow her. Not until she was far away.


	10. Chapter 10

**disclaimer: not mine, don't sue**

_ahhhhh, i am sooooo sorry i have not been updating! things have been crazy, but i finished this story and it's gonna be good._

* * *

She had left.

Again.

Back to Salt Lake City.

Back to her life that was not a Life.

He left.

Again.

Back to Washington, D.C..

Back to his life that was not a Life.

They were exactly the same.

"_Hi, you've reached Dana Scully. I can't come to the phone right now but please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can…"_

It was her answering machine.

Again.

He called every day, even though he knew she wouldn't pick up.

Maybe she would.

That would be a plus.

But he was just content to listen to her recorded voice for now.

Besides, he wouldn't know what to say.

* * *

She had been more distant than usual. She had gotten a taste of her Life, and she had liked it.

Then she ran away from it.

Back to her life.

Again.

It was not lost on anyone. When she got back to the field office, her colleagues noticed her change.

There wasn't much change.

She had never gotten close to any of them. There was just enough change that they would see.

Her dulling eyes and her dulling hair.

Her body complaining.

Her soul dying.

And nobody felt like asking Mark-with-the-broken-nose.

* * *

Mark-with-the-broken-nose had woken up in the hospital in Chicago with a severe reality check. His character hadn't changed much since they got back, but his colleagues noticed his change.

There wasn't much change.

He hoped to fix that.

He actually felt terrible about what he did, though he would never tell his partner. He had not wanted to confront her at the beach like he did. He did not want to separate her and her _partner_.

But he also didn't want to be seen as a fool.

Nobody

Made

Mark

Sloveny

Look

Like

A

Fool.

Even though he himself noticed what a jerk he had acted like.

* * *

Mark Sloveny is not like other men at the Salt Lake City field office.

He can go for miles without stopping.

He can go for days without looking back.

But he always looks back.

And sometimes, he doesn't like what he sees.

This was no exception.

And it was eating him up inside.

Who was he to take her Life away from her? He had degraded her in such an unforgivable way.

He had never ditched her but he had called her a bitch and that is worse.

He wanted to talk to her about it but could never really find the appropriate time.

Until one day she walked into the office with the same clothes she had on the day before and the darkest circles he had ever seen under her eyes. That was when he knew it was time for an intervention.

That was when he knew that an apology was in order.

"Dana," he started that morning that would change her life (and her Life). She looked up from her desk, startled, as if she was amazed that somebody had said her name.

He didn't blame her.

They hadn't spoken much since they got back from Chicago.

"Yeah?" she asked, the momentary shock subsiding. She had looked back down at whatever she was working (or pretending to work) on. It was just Mark-with-the-broken-nose. Mark-on-the-ground. Mark-the-glory-hound. Mark-who-was-her-partner-but-not-her-_partner_. He could tell she still didn't want to speak to him.

"Uh, I like that jacket on you."

She felt like smacking him.

She knew she hadn't changed clothes last night. She didn't care.

"Would you like to elaborate on that?" she asked, not caring who she fought with. He Himself could walk in here and she would have no problem starting an argument.

That

Was

Dana

Scully.

"No. I just hate seeing you like this."

"Like this? Like what, Mark?"

"Like a ghost. Dana, whenever I see you, you're a thousand miles away. You're not here. You're there, with _him_."

"I'm fine."

She still said that even when she wasn't fine. If He were there, He would have found it nice to know that

Some

Things

Never

Change.

"You're not fine, Dana. Nobody that lives like you could be fine. You go to and from places without making an impact. Without making a sound. You're dead… and I realized that I had never truly seen you happy. Not until we got to Chicago and you found _him_."

"Well He and I cannot be in the gray, so we came up with a compromise."

He stays in the black.

I stay in the white.

Little did she know that they were both in the black.

As dark a black as you can find.

"What compromise, Dana? You stay away from each other and go your separate ways, shut-off to the world? Suffering the same amount separately?"

Mark had never wanted her to leave as much as he did at that moment. Because, after all, she was still his partner (even if he was not her's), and he still wanted the best for her. In the FBI, partners look out for each other. Partners have each others' backs. And while he could have felt so much contempt for Him, all he wanted his partner to do was find Him and live

Happily

Ever

After.

"It's not that simple, Mark… I can't just leave and run back to D.C."

"Why not? You are not a whole person without that man."

"Because…"

"Why not Dana?"

"I don't know why not!" she started to cry. She didn't want to cry in front of Mark, she never had before. The true truth was, though, that she didn't know why she didn't just leave. Mulder knew she didn't know also.

Mark-with-the-broken-nose kneeled down in front of Scully and let her cry on his shoulder. Her cries made him want to cry. For all the evil in the world. He had never known what Life (or the lack of one) could do to someone so subtly. He had never known what the fates and the gods of love planned when they were not shooting their movie. He had never known that he could care so much for the woman that shut him and everybody else out of her life.

For the first time in their over-one-year partnership, Mark Sloveny scratched the surface of Dana Scully's Life.

And now he was pushing her away.

"You need to go, Dana," he whispered into her hair as he felt her cries start to subside.

"What if he won't take me back?" she asked with all the fear in the world. Why would Mulder take her back? She had left him not once, but twice.

"He'll take you back, Dana. You just have to promise that you won't run away from him again."

"I don't make promises anymore."

"Maybe it's time to start."

"I couldn't just make such a huge promise right away."

She needed practice.

He stood her up and took her over to the mirror that hung on their office door.

"Promise yourself," Mark-with-the-broken-nose told her, gripping her shoulders.

"What am I supposed to promise myself?"

"Promise yourself that you won't run away from him."

She had to promise that she wouldn't run away from Him.

She had to promise herself.

"Mark--"

"Come on Dana, look at yourself and say it. 'I promise I won't run away from Mulder.'"

She looked at herself in the mirror. Her dulling eyes with the bags, her dulling hair, and her complaining body looked back at her. It had been a long time since she'd really looked in a mirror. She didn't like what she saw. She looked dead.

There was only one thing to do.

"I promise," she started, shakily, "that I won't run away from Mulder."

"Louder, Dana."

"I promise I won't run away from Mulder."

"What?"

"I promise I won't run away from Mulder!" she shouted, smiling. Her entire body opened up, and she leapt into Mark's arms.

"Good job," he said, hugging her back.

"Thank you."

It was the only thing she could manage to get out.

"No, Dana, don't thank me. In fact, I've been meaning to tell you how sorry I am. For everything that happened in Chicago. For things that didn't happen in Chicago. I'm sorry I was so distant from you. I never tried to get close, and yet I thought you were the one preventing us from having a good partner-partner relationship. I'm really sorry."

"Me too."

They were exactly the same.

Their division director found them, in their office, still hugging.

"Was one of you shouting?" he asked, taken back by the sight of Dana-the-dead hugging Mark-with-the-broken-nose.

"Sir," Scully started, pulling away from Mark unlike she pulled away from him in the past, "I would like to ask for a transfer. I want to go back to Washington."


	11. Chapter 11

**dislcaimer: not mine, don't sue**

* * *

She remembered, but not for the first time since she left, that she still had his key. To his apartment. To his heart.

And as she moved through the airport, she could feel herself getting stronger.

Un-dying.

Like He was a magnet.

"I need a one-way to D.C.," she told the flight arranger at the counter. She said it with such an air of confidence and definity that he looked up from his computer (as arrangers hardly ever do) and into her eyes.

Dana Scully's eyes.

The ones that were un-dying.

They were smiling and so was she.

Because she had made a promise.

To herself.

I promise I won't run away from Mulder.

That I will continue my Life.

I need a one-way. Because I'm never coming Back.

"Alright, then. There's a flight leaving at 6:30 tonight. I'm sorry, all the others are booked."

"All the others?"

"All the others."

"Is there an indirect flight to D.C.? Anything, I just have to get to D.C., and I don't think I can wait until 6:30," she explained.

She couldn't.

She didn't trust herself to keep that promise until 6:30.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, there's nothing," the man said. He couldn't help but feel for Scully, with her un-dying eyes that were still A Live, but in despair. He could tell she was running away from something.

Or toward something.

But what he didn't know was that she was doing both.

Running away from her ghost… the shadow of her life.

And running toward her present and future… the man she shared a history with, the man she shared a forehead with, the man she shared a soul with.

Back to her Life.

Back to Him.

"Okay. Thank you," Scully told him. She felt like being mad, but she didn't know who to be mad at. There was nobody to blame for there not being a flight. She couldn't blame herself (even though this was all her fault to being with) because she had decided it was time to heal.

There

Was

Nobody

To

Blame.

Not like in the movies.

She wanted to cry but Dana Scully, no matter who she was or where she was, didn't cry. That was something she didn't feel like giving up right away. Her ability to cry. Or her inability to cry. There were some things she still needed control over. So she sat down in the terminal and Waited.

* * *

In the time since he had left, Fox Mulder had done two things.

1) he cleaned out his apartment and was preparing to move out of it

and

2) he wrote his letter of resignation from the FBI.

He hadn't sent it yet. There was something inside of him that always told him to wait one. more. day.

Like he waited for Her.

And his day had come.

Maybe he would get lucky again.

Then he remembered that the fates and the playful gods were plotting against him.

Still he kept the letter.

He knew that what he had done was wrong. An agent getting into a physical confrontation with another agent is number two on the list of things NOT to do in the FBI.

Right under having a sexual relationship with your partner.

Perhaps the FBI would just fire him.

Then he could live the rest of his days under a viaduct or bridge somewhere in the city… begging for food and muttering about aliens and conspiracies. Mulder inwardly laughed because that was what a lot of people had expected to become of him.

The crazy bum.

Just

Like

In

The

Movies.

But that was absurd.

Because

Real

Life

Is

Not

Like

The

Movies.

There are no _happily ever after_s. There are no second chances. There are no opportunities. There are no crazy bums muttering about aliens under the viaduct.

No.

Because what Mulder realized is that _happily ever after _comes at the end of the book, but nobody tells you what happens next.

And that second chances frequently turn into wasted opportunities.

And that those crazy bums are not muttering about aliens.

They are muttering about how hungry they are and other bum things.

For Mulder, that was Proof.

Proof that

Real

Life

Is

Not

Like

The

Movies.

He went about his day, his mind never really leaving Chicago and never really leaving Her.

He existed only enough in the Real World to get by. For now, his history would consume him. The history that no longer contained a present and future. Only past. As far as Mulder was concerned, this was the End of the road.

_This isn't about you._

But it was.

Because it was his Body and his Mind and his Wrinkles (that she gave him) that missed her. That wanted her. That needed her.

And he swore up and down that he would never live in the present again. He would stay in the past, with her, with his sister.

The past can't be controlled, but what he remembered of it could be.

The present and the future are unpredictable.

And empty now.

So when he drove to the airport and bought a ticket to Salt Lake City, it was in a fog (Skinner had not gotten involved this time). A sort of last-ditch effort to conserve his present and future. Though he had given up, the part of his brain that put him on auto-pilot that day hadn't.

Auto-pilots never know when to give up. That's for the regular pilots.

Perhaps it was because Lucy had not spoken to him since they got back.

Perhaps because it was his 147th time listening to Her answering machine.

Perhaps because that's just what you do when you Love somebody

That

Much.

You go on auto-pilot for them.

"One-way to Salt Lake City, please," he told the woman at the counter.

I need a one-way. Because I am never coming Back.

He said it with such helplessness and depression that she had to look up.

"Sure, sir. One leaves in about fifteen minutes."

Mulder's wrinkles stared at her. They laughed at her.

_We did this to him._

_We are what She did to him._

It was true.

"Thank you," he took his ticket and sat down. He traced over the gold writing with his thumb. He was going to Salt Lake City for Her. Even though he didn't expect to get her back.

She was like a magnet.

And the thought that he could perhaps be around her but never see her or touch her and never, ever love Her made him die a little more inside. Not like it wasn't dead enough already.

Maybe next life.

And he smiled because she didn't believe in that kind of thing.


	12. Chapter 12

**disclaimer: not mine, don't sue**

* * *

An indirect flight to D.C. had been bumped up on the schedule.

She left for Him at 4:30.

He landed at the airport at 4:35.

Just like last time.

Just like in a movie.

Things were exactly the same.

And on the way over on the plane, Fox Mulder had done two things.

1) he called Skinner to tell him that he would need a few days (and possibly the rest of his Life [or the lack of one]) to himself to think things out

and

2) he promised (himself) that he would go talk to her first before he decided that he was Strong enough to be around her but never see her or touch her and never, ever love Her.

There were some things that needed to be done.

Not for his sake or her's.

But because it was what the characters in the movies would have done.

Of course, Mulder knew that

Real

Life

Is

Not

Like

The

Movies.

But when he showed up at the FBI field office, there was nobody there by the name Dana Scully. Nobody had seen Dana-the-dead since that morning.

"I don't believe that," Mulder had told her director. The director didn't know what to say. He had heard about but had never seen, touched, and never, ever loved Fox Mulder.

So he hadn't known what to expect.

"I'm sorry, Agent Mulder, she's not here. She left this morning."

"Does anybody know where she went?" Mulder asked.

"I'm not sure. Some strange things went on in her office today--"

"What kind of things?"

Mulder was an expert on strange things.

"She was shouting, and when I went down there to check everything out, she was hugging her partner."

Her partner, not her _partner_.

And while Mulder could believe many things, he did not believe that. How could his Dana Scully hug Mark-with-the-broken-nose?

After everything that happened.

Maybe he was losing her. Or had he already lost her?

"She _hugged_ him?" he asked in a disgusted way.

"Yes. It was strange, but nothing appeared to be happening--"

"Where is her partner? I want to see him NOW," Mulder demanded.

"Hold on, Agent Mulder, I'll call his office--"

"_I'll_ call his office because She is _my partner_!"

Even though he knew he would hear about it later (FBI got the bill, he got the lecture), he picked up the director's phone and dialed the standard switchboard number. He asked for him, not Mark-on-the-ground, not Mark-with-the-broken-nose, but just simply Mark Sloveny, though his name left a bad taste on his lips and set his tongue on fire.

"Special Agent Mark Sloveny," he answered.

"Where did she (She) go?" Mulder demanded to know.

"Excuse me, who is this?"

"This is the guy that punched your lights out, and if you don't tell me where Scully is right NOW I'll do it again!"

"Agent Mulder!"

"Agent Mulder?"

"I would advise you to give me an answer quickly."

"You're in Salt Lake City?"

"Yes! Now tell me where Dana Scully is!"

"Hold on. I'm coming down there. Please don't take this the wrong way. I just have to say this in person…"

"The clock is ticking, Agent Sloveny."

And he hung up.

* * *

Special Agent Mark Sloveny did no have to take the elevator up to get to his director's office.

Not like Mulder did.

Still, he arrived in the office in about the same time it took Mulder to get to Skinner's office. Maybe a little less. There was more to lose now.

"Agent Mulder," he started.

"I want to know where she (She) is and why she (She) isn't here," Mulder started as well, in a less friendly manner.

Mark's nose was still wrapped up, he noticed.

"Mulder, she isn't here. She left awhile ago." "You had to come all the way down here to tell me that? What, did you just want to see my face?"

"No, it's not that. I just… can't believe the irony of the situation."

Mulder had had enough of irony.

"What the hell do you mean? Can you please tell me, Mark (with-the-broken-nose) what the hell is so ironic about this situation?"

"Well, it's just… she left for D.C. to go find you."

* * *

Scully arrived at the airport (her old friend) around 8:30 that night. After a stop in Chicago (more irony), she was ready to see Mulder. After picturing his face and imagining his touch and smell for four hours, she was ready. She would never be more ready ever again.

She was going to knock on the door, but felt so uninvited. And loud.

And souls don't knock.

They just enter.

So she took out his key (her key, that he had given her to use so that she would not have to knock) and unlocked the door.

What she found she had not been expecting to find. After picturing and smelling Mulder for the entire plane ride (and before, when she was Waiting), she was not prepared to picture what sat in front of her.

An empty apartment.

With no Mulder.

Words could not describe what she felt, but she tried to find some.

Alone, she then realized, was not just a feeling or a state of being.

It was her life. Her Life (and her lack of one).

And as this thought wave hit her, she had no choice other than to fall to her knees and cry. For everything she had lost. For her own selfishness and the fact that she had been the one to lose it.

Her fault.

Her dreams.

Her hope.

Her heartache.

Is this what he felt when he showed up at the airport five minutes late?

Only his couch remained in the living room, too big to go into storage and too personal to be sold just yet. Scully somehow managed to drag her alone-ridden body (as if it were diseased) over to the sentimental piece of furniture and lay down on it, trying to absorb it or maybe disappear into it.

She promised she would not run away from him.

She sobbed on the couch until she reached that place between A Sleep and A Wake where nothing hurts and things hurt more than they normally do.

* * *

"She what?"

"She left for D.C. this morning to go find you. That's why we were shouting, Sir. She was promising me; promising herself that she wouldn't leave once she got there," Mark tried to explain. Mulder had to sit down. He couldn't take the irony.

"I can't believe the timing," Mark felt it important to add.

Mulder could.

They were exactly the same.

"What flight did she leave on?" was his next question. He had calmed down considerably. Mark's behavior still puzzled him, but if he moved fast enough (and in a separate direction), he would not have to deal with him much Ever Again.

"I'm not sure. Knowing Dana she would get the first one-way out, right?"

That was what she would do.

But that's not what would have been done in the movies.

There would have been something in the way.

"Something got in the way," Mulder whispered to himself, and got up to leave. "I hope everything turns out alright, Agent Mulder," Mark-who-was-not-on-the-ground yelled down the hall.

The director was still confused. At the irony… at everything.

He caught the next one-way to D.C.

The one that left at 6:30.

The one that she would have been on if the fates and the gods of love weren't so concerned with their movie.

_I thought you were done playing, _Mulder said to them.

There was an on-flight movie on the way home. A love story. One that would last the entire ride because this was a one-way (because he was never going back).

Man and woman.

Fall in love.

Don't know it.

Leave.

Find.

Leave.

Find.

Kiss.

Happily Ever After.

What comes next?

_Your present and future._


	13. Chapter 13

**disclaimer: not mine, don't sue**

* * *

Scully was perfectly comfortable in staying that place between A Sleep and A Wake where nothing hurts (and things hurt more than they should) on Mulder's couch in his empty apartment for the rest of her life.

The rest of her Life (or her lack of one).

Because Life had been Lived without Him.

She was dying again.

She

Missed

Her

Chance.

And her body and her soul and her hair and her eyes and her muscles were all dulling and complaining and she was Tired.

Too tired to notice that he had opened the door.

Too tired to notice that he had walked over to the couch in the middle of the empty apartment where she lay between A Sleep and A Wake.

And A Live.

Too tired to notice that he was Tired as well.

"Hey," was all he could think to say. He knew she would have said nothing.

"You left," she finally has the opportunity to say.

"Yeah, I came looking for you."

They were exactly the same.

"I was scared when I couldn't find you," she told him (but not really told him, because she had just finished his thought).

"We're tired of this."

"We're giving ourselves wrinkles."

"We're dulling our hair and eyes."

"We're killing ourselves."

They smiled when they finished that last statement together.

"I just want my Life back, Mulder. I want you back," Scully started to cry. This was one of those times where she could allow it. Like on Mark's shoulder that morning. Like on his chest when they watched _Steel Magnolias_.

Mulder kneeled and put his arms around the woman he loved. That he shared a soul and a forehead and a history with. That he wanted to share his present and future with. They squeezed each other so tightly (maybe to let the other absorb into them, maybe to disappear into each other altogether) they ran out of breath.

And they kissed.

Until they ran out of breath.

Just

Like

In

The

Movies.


End file.
